


Grinch + Turtle Carry

by TANGOCHARLIE



Series: The Carries [4]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Drinking, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TANGOCHARLIE/pseuds/TANGOCHARLIE
Summary: Turtle carry? What in the heck is that? You'll see.Here's your Christmas carry and the answer to the mystery film introduced in @impossiblepluto's Fluffy Whumpy Christmas series.Set in 2015
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: The Carries [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518266
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	Grinch + Turtle Carry

"For the last time, Jack, we are not caroling."

"Why not? Dude, it's Christmas Eve."

"One," Mac started, index finger in the air. "You're the only one that actually enjoys singing, probably a little too much for everyone's liking. I'm pretty sure Nikki would rather eat glass, and you know I don't sing."

"Mmmhmm." Jack nodded knowingly, "You say that, but I believe differently."

"Two," two fingers up, "is that really a good idea? Knocking on strangers' doors and actually expecting them to open them, with or without a shotgun pointed at us."

"This is LA, I have more guns on me at any given time than this whole neighborhood has combined."

Mac held up three fingers, ignoring Jack's interjections, "Three: caroling is for when it's cold and snowing outside. You don't see Norman Rockwell painting carolers in ratty old rock band t-shirts and skinny jeans."

"Heeeeeey," Jack looked offended and his tone was serious. "That was a personal dig, and I resent that." He walked out the front door, hoping for a meaningful dramatic exit warranting an apology text from Mac once he was a few miles away.

Jack cranked the GTO, its powerful engine rattling the windows, hoping Mac would notice that Jack hadn't gone out just for fresh air. He left Mac's street at cruising speed, slowing even more as his distance from the house increased. No texts from Mac.

At the next stop sign, Jack picked up his phone just to make sure the ringer was turned up. The screen was still cracked diagonally across the top corner from their last mission. There was no way Mac hadn't sent that apology text yet. At least the ringer was up so he could get an alert when it came through; he had to resume normal driving speed as he got out of the residential area. 

Five more miles traversed and still no text. He checked the group chat, maybe Mac made a public apology. He had been quite snippy with everyone lately, which happened around the holidays sometimes, but no one held it against Mac. They felt sorry for him and overcompensated with attempts to start new fun traditions with his found family. Nope, nothing on the group chat either. 

Jack gave it a few more miles before conceding to head home. "Shit, I left my Santa hat on the couch," he thought. Disappointed that he had no apology, no one to carol with, and now no Santa hat to wear to the burger joint for an unexpected solo Christmas Eve lunch. 

\------

"Mac," Bozer fussed after Jack's car rumbled out of their driveway, "that was a little harsh. Why don't you apologize? My pastrami requires a larger audience that just you and me." The bell dangling off his elf hat cheerily jingling with his movements.

"No, Bozer. He just doesn't know when to quit. Always pressing and nagging to get his way. He just needs to accept that I'm not always going to cave and agree to go along with his stupid plans."

"Mac, while I'm sure that you're more think and he's more tank when it comes to your workplace, Jack's not stupid."

"That's not what I said at all." Mac threw his arms in the air in frustration. "I never said Jack was stupid. I said his ideas were stupid."

"That's basically the same thing." Bozer's sassy handshake was punctuated by the jingling hat.

"Ugh!" Mac huffed in frustration. "Ok, not stupid. We'll go with juvenile, asinine, weird, senseless, silly. Is that a more sensitive way to say it?"

"No. It isn't. Why don't you go out back and cool off. I know you can get a little broody during the holidays, Jack understands that. Maybe some fresh air will do you some good. I'm gonna finish whipping up this batch of my Nana's homemade eggnog, the perfect cure for your holiday blues."

\------

Jack hoped he'd made it to the supermarket before it closed early for Christmas Eve. He'd not spent Christmas Eve alone in many years, and Mac never let him stew this long. Jack resigned to spending this Christmas alone, but with style; he'd decided to make his own miniature feast for one, skipping lunch altogether. He grabbed a ham steak, some potatoes, and a box of the fancy macaroni and cheese with the squeezy cheese pouch. He passed the liquor aisle on his way to the freezer section, you can't have ham without dinner rolls. On his way to the checkout, he backtracked and found himself again in the liquor aisle. Since his ham wasn't honey glazed and he didn't want to muck up his tiny porch grill with a sticky syrupy mess, he decided a sweet cocktail would suffice. He grabbed a bottle of Papa Pilar's dark rum, a bottle of grenadine, some soda, and a tiny bottle of molasses. 

He nabbed a few more impulse items on his way to the checkout. There were mostly unnecessary things- maraschino cherries, tiny plastic swords to stab them with to fancy up his lonely Christmas cocktail, and another Santa hat. This time with flashing LED lights. 

Jack was nearly home when he received a text from Bozer. "Mac is sorry. Please come back." Jack didn't actually believe it since the text didn't come from Mac himself, but an olive branch was an olive branch, and he made his way back toward their house.

\--------

Nana's eggnog was awaiting it's final touch, just a jigger of cognac. Bozer brought out the fancy bottle of Remy Martin XO that Jack had brought him back from one of their work trips. It was a sipping cognac, but throwing it into an eggnog wasn't a terrible tragedy. In fact, this drink was so smooth that Bozer added just a little extra to try to take the edge off of Mac. He'd been so high strung lately, his past few Christmases had been pretty good, he'd not been this down during the holidays in a few years. Bozer wasn't quite sure why Mac was so pissy- he had a great job, hot girlfriend, nice house, awesome friends, Mac had so many reasons to be cheerful during the holidays. Maybe loosening him would help him talk about his feelings instead of bottling them up and taking it out on Jack. 

\-------

Mac was still out on the back deck, building something out of an old Erector set Bozer had found in the attic while pulling out the Christmas decorations earlier in the month. At the front door, Jack knocked first, still unsure if he was actually welcome back. Of course he was always welcome, but he wasn't feeling _welcome_ welcome until Mac himself actually invited him back. 

"Nice hat!" Bozer delightedly commented upon seeing the tacky LED lights on Jack's hat. 

"Hey, can I store this in your fridge?" He raised the grocery bag. "I stopped at the grocery store to get dinner stuff for myself. Guess I don't need it now. Thanks, man." He clapped Bozer on the shoulder with his free hand.

"Sure! I'm gonna go throw the pastrami on the smoker and be back in a few. Make yourself at home, and Nana's eggnog is in the fridge. Help yourself."

"Don't mind if I do."

As Bozer made his way out back where Mac was sulking, Jack made room for his things in the fridge, pulling out the eggnog to pour himself a glass. He closed the fridge and looked at the punch bowl and ladle with a mischievous eyebrow raise. Jack opened his new bottle of dark rum and dumped a fair amount into the bowl, storing the bottle with the rest of the house's liquor. 

Jack doled out 3 glasses of eggnog. He garnished them with a little extra cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled on top to mask the extra spirits he'd added. He joined his friends on the back deck, approaching the smoker with the 2 drinks balanced on his cupped palm and the third glass already at his lips. He held them out to Bozer, the cook eagerly grabbing a drink, taking a whiff and complimenting Jack's garnish choice. 

He sheepishly approached Mac with the other drink, impressed by the contraption he'd constructed with the old building set. "Thirsty?" Jack asked quietly, almost inaudible, not wanting to break Mac's concentration. 

"Thanks," was Mac's only response. Taking the glass without looking up or taking his left hand off his structure. He sniffed the drink and turned up his nose but took a sip anyway. 

Jack took the hint and carried his own drink back inside and waited for Bozer to return. It wasn't that he thought Mac was upset with him, but Mac was clearly not willing to pull his attention away from whatever it was he was working on. Bozer returned to the kitchen to wash his hands and acknowledged Jack sitting on the couch.

"Glad you came back, Jack. I've got a good two hours before I have to start the next thing. Wanna watch _Die Hard_ since I know it's your favorite Christmas movie? I mean we could watch the OG Grinch, but he's already outside."

Jack chuckled and shrugged, "your house, your call." He chugged the last of his drink, "Hats off to Nana Bozer and her kickass eggnog." He raised his glass in a long distance toast and Bozer flowed suit. "It's like my MeeMaw's divinity, but with a kick. Tastes like Christmas."

"Ooh! I haven't had divinity since I was a kid. Maybe we can make some of that! I'll Google a recipe."

"Not necessary," Jack replied, "I've got the recipe here." He tapped the side of his head. "Made it with MeeMaw for as long as I can remember, it's a really simple recipe. As long as you have pecans and a candy thermometer, I think we're set."

\-----

"Alright now, beat those egg whites to stiff peaks and I'll watch this pot till it reaches hard ball candy stage around 260 degrees. Then we have to work fast to get it all combined and then doled out onto the parchment paper before it starts to set."

"Wow, Jack, I didn't know you had it in you."

"MeeMaw had a different grandkid to help with each dish. This one was mine. She told me she needed the fastest and most skilled kid to help her with the divinity. I'm pretty sure any of us could have done it, but it made snot nosed little Jack feel real proud that he was the fastest and best." His face was beaming with fond nostalgia. "You know, Mac would have really appreciated the science behind candy making and baking, something about proteins stretching and all that mess with meringue is right up his alley. Too bad he didn't have someone to take him under their wing and teach him. Probably why he sucks so bad at cooking. All it is is science; he just doesn't have any interest in it because no one ever showed him all this badass kitchen science."

Mac walked back inside with his empty glass as they were combining the hot sugar mixture with the egg whites and pecans in a thin steady stream of the quickly hardening candy. Mac rinsed his glass in the sink as he watched them stare at the mixer's contents as it flopped around the mixer bowl.

"Ok lift up the beater." Jack instructed. As Bozer lifted it a blob of white candy fell from the beater back into the bowl and melted into the confection. "Almost there, run the mixer a little longer. And grab six spoons and some butter." 

They buttered the concave sides of the spoons; Jack put one in each hand and signaled for Bozer to turn the mixer off. He scooped a spoonful of candy and dropped it onto the parchment using the second spoon and a little twist of the wrist. "That's all there is to it. Grab your spoons Boze, time is of the essence."

Bozer plopped a blob off his spoons and cheered. 

"Awesome! If you're feeling advanced, try to give it a little twist with your wrist as it falls so it has that soft serve ice cream curly-q on top."

Bozer nodded in understanding and turned to Mac, "grab the other two spoons, help us get these onto the tray."

Mac reluctantly joined them and genuinely enjoyed the challenge of hastily balling and dropping the candies. He may have even smiled a little. "So when will they be ready to eat?" Mac asked excitedly. 

"Tomorrow probably." Jack answered and Mac's face fell in disappointment. "Well they have to sit at room temperature until they're completely cooled and set."

"I could probably figure out an exact time based on ambient temperature and the density of the cookies if you wanted." Mac suggested.

"Sounds great," Jack clapped him on the back and went to the fridge for more eggnog. 

"I'll grab the next round." Mac corralled them out of the kitchen, "you guys put on a movie or something festive."

"Aw, his heart grew three sizes." Bozer teased as he was kicked out of the kitchen and took a seat on the couch, removing his apron but keeping the silly hat. He and Jack rifled through an eclectic mix of Christmas DVDs, unable to resist putting on the classic version of _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. 

Mac used the distraction to spike the eggnog further in an attempt to shake the unpleasant gloom hovering over his holiday. He stirred and ladeled 3 more drinks, not even bothering to add the spices as garnish to cover up the strong smell of alcohol. 

Jack accepted his drink and shook out a playful shudder at the smell of alcohol wafting off the drink. "Nana Bozer sure knew how to party. If I drink another one of these I may be _the king of sinful sots_." Jack sang gleefully with an unexpected deep baritone. "Oh hey, I think my nuts just dropped." He propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles and reclined into the couch, one arm stretched across the back cushions wielding the remote, and the other holding his drink. 

"I'll be back in a minute," Mac announced by the deck door before slipping outside.

Jack couldn't hide his grin when the music started, the caroling Whos taking him back to childhood Christmases surrounded by love and family. Then he thought about Mac and his lack of happy Christmas memories from his youth, and how this time of year probably wasn't as delightful to him. Mac had probably spent a few wondering if he'd be alone or with friends. Of course he'd always had Bozer, but felt like he was intruding or imposing, with everyone feeling sorry for the little orphaned boy. At least now Mac knew that he would always have Jack, or at least he hoped he knew that. Jack made a mental note to pull Mac aside at some point and let him know there was no question about family or where he belonged during the holidays. 

His reprieve was interrupted by Bozer, "you know that the Grinch is basically commentary on the commercialism of Christmas."

Jack interrupted him, "nuh uh uh uh, you're not going there. Don't go all Siskel and Ebert on my movies. Just enjoy the film. I've enjoyed it for 40 years and never thought it needed some kind of critical analysis. It's a cartoon. With singing and nonsense words."

"And you know every single one of those words don't you?" Mac added as he came back inside. 

"And what if I do? It's a classic. Oh shhhhh." He shushed Mac and motioned for him to sit down. "This is song is my jam." He lip synced emphatically along with the song. "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heeeeeel. You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You're a bad banana with a-" he pumped his fist in the air twice with the beat, "greasy black peel."

Bozer raised an eyebrow and asked, "Jack, you sing everything. Why are you pulling a Milli Vanilli with Mr. Grinch?"

"Well Boze, when it comes to Christmas music, I'm more of a Burl Ives. Our boy over there is the Thurl Ravenscroft."

"Huh?"

"Mac has that deep bass voice. I'm more of a baritone. If I try to sing that low, it makes my ears itch on the inside. I'll leave the low stuff for him." Jack finished off his drink and stood, wobbling, to fetch a refill.

"Still gonna pass on that singing thing." Mac responded just before finishing his drink and handing it to Jack, "but I'll take a refill."

Bozer sipped more slowly, enjoying watching his friends loosen up. Sharing smiles instead of tense silence. 

Jack returned from the kitchen, drinks in hand, and stopped near the back door, a puzzled look on his face. "Um. Guys? I'm pretty sure that hot weather chick said that the low was in the 60s today. Right?"

"What are you talking about Jack?" Bozer asked, then panicked, standing to rush to the deck door, "is the smoker on fire again?" He stopped and stared out the window in awe. 

"Snow." Mac told them in a chipper tone.

"Is that what you were building back there?" Jack asked, looking at Mac with the smirk of a proud father.

"Yep." Mac told him as he relaxed on the couch, soon joined by his two best friends to finish the short Christmas classic. Their eyes were torn between the tv and the snow trying to accumulate on the deck before melting into the wood. 

\--------

Once the movie ended, Jack couldn't hide his concern any longer. "So what's eatin' ya, hoss?" 

Mac shrugged and made a noncommittal sound. 

"Man, I know this isn't always the best time for you. We're here to make it better." He gestured between himself and Bozer. "Get you through the rough patches." 

Mac hesitated a few moments longer and let out a deliberately long exhale. "You know that picture Bozer found while we were over in the sandbox? The one of my mom and me in the snow." Jack nodded his understanding. "Well, on our last...work trip in Washington, something flashed, like a memory or dejavu or something...of my mom."

"That's great." The joy in Jack's voice was apparent. 

"It's not. Because that's all it was. Just a flash of familiarity. There was no actual memory dredged up at all. And it's been so frustrating trying to get it to happen again or come back to me for the last two weeks. It was right there and then gone." Mac looked down solemnly. 

Jack scooted across the couch to close the distance between them and draped an arm across Mac's shoulders, squeezing him firmly for lack of any appropriately comforting words to say. 

"So," Mac recovered, shaking off some of the sadness, "I made snow to see if maybe that would trigger something. With the shade on the deck and the amount of snow that's already melted into the wood, it should start sticking soon."

"It's beautiful." Bozer admired the snow that fell outside. "How about another round, guys?"

Jack was feeling very warm on the inside, his smile plastered on involuntarily, not quite drunk, but filled with undeniable cheer and happiness that he got to spend his holiday with these guys. 

"Let's finish it off!"

In an effort to curb return trips to the kitchen, Bozer ditched the short fancy whiskey glasses and broke out Harry's vintage Muppet glasses. They were at least double the drink capacity and Bozer's tie in with what he wanted to watch next. "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves for the best screen adaptation of the Dickens classic to date." He handed two full glasses to his friends. "Michael Caine should have won an Oscar for this one."

"Muppet Christmas Carol, good call." Jack mimed a long distance toast with his glass toward Bozer. "I took a girl to see that one at the theater my senior year." Jack reminisced, "cute and nerdy, real smart, not from my usual dating pond."

Bozer joked as he inserted the DVD into the player, "Aw Jack, an equal opportunity heartbreaker." 

"She dumped me!" Jack protested. "And went back to some asshole in the marching band that had dumped her before Thanksgiving."

"You were the rebound guy!" Bozer's eyes widened. "Jack the jock, ditched for a band nerd." He choked on a laugh remembering the Military Service history of the target of his teasing.

"I had a few blows to my ego senior year. Shaped me into the amazing person I am today." Jack settled deeper into the couch and took up as much space as humanly possible, propping his feet up on the coffee table as the movie started, posturing to reaffirm his machismo. 

Halfway through the film, an impressive amount of snow had collected on the deck, but it wasn't quite ready for snowball fights and snowman building. 

The movie was almost finished and Mac quietly stepped outside. His foot crunched in the manufactured snow on the back deck as he took one deliberate step into it. He took another step and looked up, letting the light flakes land on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and continued to take in the feeling of the snow and the season. Mac stuck out his tongue and caught a few flakes, letting himself feel the childlike wonderment in what he'd considered a meteorological burden as an adult. He spread his arms and spun around slowly, trying his best to invoke the spirit of tiny toddler Mac. He made it about 180 degrees before stumbling and landing on his ass in the snow with a snicker, _too much eggnog,_ he thought. A cringe followed shortly after once he realized his pants and underwear would be soaked. 

Mac heard a women's voice next to him. "It's ok, sweetheart, we'll get you into some dry clothes once we go back inside." 

He looked at the beautiful blonde woman decked out in full winter gear, just like in the picture Bozer had found. "Mom?" 

"For now, let's make the best of a bad situation." She told him as she laid down in the snow to make a snow angel. As she flapped her arms and moved her legs like a bellows. "Come on, Angus, don't be a Grinch."

He'd grown to cringe at being addressed by his first name, but from her it sounded beautiful, melodic. He didn't think he remembered what her voice sounded like, but it was clear as day and sounded like a song. He followed suit and laid down in the snow, making an angel of his own.

"There you go," she stood over him, smiling. "It's perfect. Stay there so Daddy can take a picture."

"Ok, Mommy." He closed his eyes as flakes landed on his face, blinking the moisture out of his eyes. He opened them and allowed them to adjust to the light again; she was nowhere in sight. Mac sat up and looked to his right for her snow angel, but his was alone and on his deck in LA. 

His first instinct was to be disappointed, but he couldn't have been happier. The memory he'd been grasping at for weeks had finally come to him. With a satisfied sigh, Mac laid back down in his angelic imprint and closed his eyes. He felt the short but clear memory wash over him again, seeing and hearing his mom. This time it played out further and he saw his dad approach with a camera and took a picture of Mac in the snow with his 35mm camera. Ellen elbowed James, informing him that it was his turn to make a snow angel. He pretended to protest as she picked little Mac up and balanced him on her hip. They watched James plop into the snow and do the motions with a genuine smile on his face. As they stood to admire their trio of snow angels, James asked Ellen and Angus to say cheese and snapped the photo that present day Mac had in the frame, their cold rosy cheeks pressed together with big smiles. 

"Let's go back inside to snuggle and watch a movie. What would you like to watch, Angus?" Ellen asked. 

"Grinch!" The toddler yelled excitedly as Mac's memory faded away.

Jack watched Mac through the window, amused by his snow angel making. He fought the urge to go outside and join his best friend, letting him have his space. After Mac sat up and looked around, he laid back down and stopped moving. Jack gave him several moments to get back up, move, or anything before deciding to go check on him. 

Upon standing, Jack wobbled a little, taking an extra second to steady himself before walking to the deck door. He cracked the door open an inch when he heard Mac talking...singing?

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel." Mac belted out in a deep warm bass. 

Reveling in this never before seen side of Mac, Jack immediately pressed his back against the wall, sliding down to the ground to listen out of view of the door.

"You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel."

Jack put his finger to his lips in a shushing pantomime and motioned to Bozer to come to the door. He crept comically, like a cartoon character, until he was close enough to hear what was going on outside. He got down on his hands and knees and shuffled closer to the door, flanking the other side across from Jack.

"You're a monster, Mr. Grinch. Your heart's an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders, you've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole." Mac continued to sing. It took all of the willpower Jack had to not sing along with his brother through the next verse.

"You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You have termites in your smile.You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr Grinch." Jack's resolve didn't last long, his inebriated state threw his inhibitions out the window and he quietly joined the singing, no longer concerned if Mac knew he was listening. "Given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile."

"You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch. You're a nasty wasty skunk. Your heart is full of unwashed socks. Your soul is full of gunk, Mr Grinch. The three words that best describe you are as follows and I quote, stink, stank, stunk." 

"You're a rotter…" Jack began the next verse after the proper musical rest, but Mac didn't continue. He paused again in case Mac had forgotten what was next, despite knowing how unlikely that was. Worry sank in momentarily and Jack peeked his head into the doorway to check on Mac.

Jack sighed, their duet was over and Mac was out cold, his clothes soaked from the snow melting with his body heat. "Hey Bozer, would you mind finding Mac some dry clothes, I'm gonna get him to come inside."

"Aye aye, cap'n." Bozer affirmed, saluting sloppily as he stood. 

Jack pressed his back against the wall again and used it as leverage to get to standing and out the door to Mac. "Hey man," Jack placed his palm on Mac's cheek, giving a couple of soft taps, "this snow is pretty amazing but you should probably get back inside before you drown." The snowflakes collected on Mac's eyelashes and hair and settled for a moment on his wet clothes before melting. His childlike innocence in sleep overriding the fact that he was passed out drunk in his own homemade LA snow storm.

The blizzard-like snowfall landing on Jack's back melted immediately, dampening his t-shirt like a spring shower. He looked up at Mac's homemade snow machine, noting that the only way to access it was up the ladder. If he were actually coordinated enough to scale the ladder right then, the likelihood of it having a simple on/off switch was very slim.

Jack stuffed his forearms under Mac's armpits to sit him up. He flopped against Jack's shoulder and groaned. "Come on, dude, I'm gettin' too old to carry your grown ass around." Jack squatted and pulled Mac by the arm across his shoulders into a fireman's carry. As he attempted to stand, Jack lost his balance and fell forward, bracing himself with his free arm. His trick shoulder almost gave out, but he managed not to face plant or drop Mac. 

"Ok," Jack said to himself, "gotta find another way." Standing was no longer an option, maybe 2 drinks ago, but not now. 

He talked out his options to himself, hoping his partner's opposition to his goofier ideas would get him talking. "I could put you across my lap like cradling a baby, no wait, sit you up in my lap like bobsledder and scoot backward across the deck." Jack couldn't resist laughing at that one. "Or I could grab your hair and drag you Flintstone style." Mac was still draped across Jack's back with Jack's hands and knees supporting all of their combined weight. "Ah hell, we're just gonna go like this. I'm the mama turtle and you're the baby turtle." Mac groaned in response. "Too late now, hoss, you're a baby turtle unless you decide to get up and walk in on your own." 

Jack crawled forward a couple of steps, but Mac's shins were on the ground, anchored in place as Jack advanced. "You're slippin, hoss" Jack shrugged his shoulder where Mac's head rested to attempt to jostle him awake. 

Mac mumbled in response, "drive a crooked hoss." 

Jack let out a chuckle, "I suppose so, but you're driving side saddle. And I ain't crooked. Maybe a little off kilter right now. And a lot drunker than I've been in a long time. So are you."

"Crooked horse lacks virtue. Jack is a good hoss." Mac patted Jack's head. 

"You're about to get unseated, bro."

Without opening his eyes, Mac adjusted himself clumsily until he was properly saddled on Jack's back. "Giddyup." 

Jack sprung into action and crawled toward the door, his clunky movements caused his inebriated friend to fall forward once again. He fell against Jack's back with a grunt and began to slide off one side as they crossed the threshold into the house. 

Jack didn't even bother to shut the door behind him. What he imagined was a graceful chaturanga move to the ground, was more of an exhausted drunken plop. He closed his eyes, the exertion coaxing him to take a little nap, but something was crushing him. He remembered his valiant rescue of Mac from the treacherous 60 degree weather outside. 

Jack tried to roll out from underneath Mac to not disturb him, but he only managed to make it most of the way. He was still on his belly, and Mac's head was resting on his flank like it was a pillow, the rest of Mac was sprawled across the floor. Close enough, Jack could sleep like this, he'd slept in worse positions. He folded his arms and pillowed his own head on them, sleep coming immediately once he knew his best friend was safe. 

Bozer returned with dry clothes for Mac and noticed that both of his friends were sleeping and wet. There was no way he could get them both changed out of their damp clothing, so he grabbed two blankets and covered each of them as best he could, praying that they would wake up in the morning without a hangover or a crick in the neck. The pastrami...the roast beast would have to wait until tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a work in progress and then tabled for a long time due to jusy being damn busy. Squeezed out the last bit at the last second. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> the Muppet glasses are from a collection from 1981 from McDonalds as a tie in with the Great Muppet Caper. Just a fun lil throwback for the older readers out there, and those of you youngins enamored by your parents weird drinking glasses from forever ago. 


End file.
